The Best Laid Schemes O' Mice An'

Dare To Be Honest And Fear No Labor.

My Dear, My Native Soil! For Whom My Warmest Wish To Heav'n Is Sent, Long May Thy Hardy Sons Of Rustic Toil Be Blest With Health, And Peace, And Sweet Content!

I Love Drinking Now And Then. It Defecates The Standing Pool Of Thought. A Man Perpetually In The Paroxysm And Fears Of Inebriety Is Like A Half-drowned Stupid Wretch Condemned To Labor Unceasingly In Water; But A Now-and-then Tribute To Bacchus Is Like The Cold Bath, Bracing And Invigorating.

But Mousie, Thou Art No Thy Lane In Proving Foresight May Be Vain The Best-laid Schemes O' Mice An' Men Gang Aft Agley An' Lea'e Us Nought But Grief An' Pain For Promis'd Joy!

Then Gently Scan Your Brother Man, Still Gentler Sister Woman; Though They May Gang A Kennin' Wrang, To Step Aside Is Human.